


Unseeing

by ozuttly



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Forced Confinement, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozuttly/pseuds/ozuttly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I care about you, Mitsunari."</p><p> </p><p>The worst part is that he meant it. Never before in his life had Mitsunari met somebody who cared as much and as deeply as Tokugawa Ieyasu. But that love was a double edged blade, a death sentence to whoever was caught on the end of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unseeing

He hadn’t seen the sun in months.

It wasn’t something that Mitsunari ever thought that he’d miss until he lost it. 

His wrists were bound in the softest silk as he laid on the futon, staring at the wall with unseeing eyes. Rough, calloused fingers ran gently over his muscled abdomen, and he did his best to pretend that they weren’t there. 

"I don’t want to lose you, Mitsunari."

It was a soft, reverent whisper into the bare skin of his shoulder, and he refused to close his eyes. 

Soft, plump lips kissed the skin at the base of his neck, and he let out a small, breathy exhale. 

A brief image fluttered behind his eyes of a time long past - of flushed cheeks after too much sake, and fumbling, awkward touches in a back room while the rest of the Toyotomi army celebrated victory. Ieyasu had looked at him with eyes that held too much love and devotion towards somebody who wasn’t his lord. Mitsunari remembered telling him this once, in a stern voice with a glower on his face. 

If Ieyasu had enough time to lavish praise and affection on a mere soldier, then surely he could devote that energy to furthering the goals of the Toyotomi. 

Ieyasu had given him a sad little smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his eyebrows drew together just the slightest bit. 

"You’re already a dead man, Mitsunari," Ieyasu whispered against his chest, large hands sliding under his yutaka, fingers seeking out the long-healed bruises from their last battle and stroking them softly. "If anybody saw you, I’d be forced to execute you."

Ieyasu pulled away, and Mitsunari could almost imagine that he felt his hands trembling. 

Mitsunari wished that he could be executed. He’d tried to do it himself, on several occasions; Ieyasu had been very careful to keep him away from sharp objects after the first, and then had taken to keeping him bound when alone n the room after the second. 

"I care about you, Mitsunari."

 

The worst part is that he meant it. Never before in his life had Mitsunari met somebody who cared as much and as deeply as Tokugawa Ieyasu. But that love was a double edged blade, a death sentence to whoever was caught on the end of it. 

It would be so much easier if he was cold. If he treated him like a prisoner instead of a lover, instead of an equal. They weren’t that, couldn’t be that anymore. 

"…I don’t want you to die,” Ieyasu said, and there was the slightest hint of pleading in his voice, like he was begging for Mitsunari to understand him. Like he was begging to be forgiven. 

That was something that Mitsunari could not do. 

No tears fell when Ieyasu pressed their mouths together, softly caressing the side of his face with a hand that was far too large, that reminded him far too much of things he could no longer have. He thought of biting down on Ieyasu’s tongue, but he couldn’t muster up the strength to do it. Instead he lay limp and unresponsive, until the trembling in Ieyasu’s hands became too obvious to ignore.

"Please, say something," the larger man whispered against his mouth, eyes desperate. Mitsunari looked up at him, staring blankly. He wished that he could conjure up a rage that befit the absurdity of what the other man was requesting, but even that much energy was beyond him. 

He hadn’t felt angry in weeks. 

"Leave," he said instead, his voice quiet and scratchy from disuse, and Ieyasu bites his lower lip before he obeys, pulling back and leaving his former rival in darkness once more.


End file.
